


Hey Look, Watch This!

by Grey_Bard



Category: Marvel, Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012), Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Cars, Gen, Humor, Roommates, faux episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-23
Updated: 2011-09-23
Packaged: 2017-10-23 23:50:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grey_Bard/pseuds/Grey_Bard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In this episode, we've got American superheroes in our reasonably priced car! And James May flies a car that doesn't exist yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hey Look, Watch This!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Savemoony (Pen)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Savemoony+%28Pen%29).
  * Inspired by [Star in a Reasonably Priced Car](https://archiveofourown.org/works/90994) by [Kaitou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaitou/pseuds/Kaitou). 



> Created in response to [this prompt](http://capkink.livejournal.com/810.html?thread=815402#t815402) on the Captain America kink meme.

Jeremy Clarkson, tall, middle-aged and humorous looking, stands by a small late model car the color of a black currant, smirking at his co-host and studio audience. "It looks like a little purple box, one rock and the wheel alignment is off, and there are reports that it can be dented by particularly hard acorns," he says, looking down at Richard Hammond, and thumping the side of the offending car.

Hammond shines with love for his subject, a tiny, scruffy evangelist for the little compact. "Well, yes, yes that's true. And I love it! It's fun, it zips nicely, and it has lots of boot space. It's exactly what a hatchback ought to be and I hope the Americans stop keeping them all for themselves."

Clarkson shakes his head. "You're mad. But that doesn't matter, because it's time to put some stars in our reasonably priced car." He turns to face the camera. "Our next guests are a cyborg and a zombie - in the nicest possible way, of course. Fresh from battling Doctor Doom and the Doombots with MI-13, please welcome Captain America and Iron Man!"

The audience cheers wildly, as it does every week for such luminaries as newsreaders and Simon Cowell. Clarkson walks over to a living room set made of seats from a car and is joined by a pair of superheroes. Out of costume, Captain America just looks like a tallish blond man in a checked shirt and khakis, while Iron Man looks exactly like Tony Stark always does. Expensive, brash and wearing green-tinted glasses indoors.

Clarkson stares at Stark's feet as he shakes his hand a second too long. "I'm sorry, are those heels you're wearing?"

"What? No!" Stark protests, but it's too late, the host has smelled blood in the water.

"They are!" says Clarkson, delighted.

Captain America looks quietly pained and long-suffering. "You can't run in those, you know that, Tony," he says.

"See?" says Clarkson, gesturing at him in mock triumph, "Listen to Captain America. Though I suppose you just can't stand coming up short?"

Tony Stark leans forward with an amused and dangerous glint in his eyes. "Talk to me when you're a superhero, Clarkson."

"I've told you," says Captain America, in a kind of familiar exasperation, "That's not short. It's normal. I would have loved to have been that tall. You think anyone's really fooled by those?"

"Are you sure you're not one of those met-ero-sexuals? The shoes are very Tom Cruise/Johnny Depp/Richard Hammond, you know..." Clarkson asks.

The corners of Stark's mouth quirk slightly. "Metrosexual isn't that accurate, I'd have to say, no."

The host shrugs. "Moving on! So the first thing I have to ask is have you never heard of secret identities? Now Iron Man I can understand, you're Tony Stark, you don't give a damn, and it's lovely PR. Are you going to buy your cellphone from a Japanese megacorp, a smug twit in a turtleneck or a loony in armored jet boots? Jet boots, obviously. But you!" he says, turning to Captain America, "You have a helmet, a mask and it's 'Call me Steve'? Not very imposing, is it, Steve Rogers? I have a plumber called Steve. Did you simply never read Batman?"

Rogers sits back in his seat and shrugs, eyebrows raised. "Well, you outlive classified status..."

"Or outdie it," Clarkson says.

"That's what happens," says Captain America.

"Tell me," Clarkson asks Stark, with false journalistic sincerity, "What's it like living with the undead? Because you do live with him. You and the archer bloke and the big beardy one with the hammer. It must be like living in a sort of superpowered American fraternity house, like you see in the movies, only with rather more explosions."

Stark wags his finger at him. "You're forgetting Black Widow, you can't forget Black Widow."

"You're right!" exclaims Clarkson, "She'll probably shoot me if I do."

"Damn straight," says Stark with a nod.

"But no, seriously," Clarkson asks, "What's it like, living with a human popsicle technically old enough to be your father?"

"Well, it's impossible to get him drunk, he likes to watch hospital dramas, and he keeps turning my music down," Stark says.

"Does he really?" laughs Clarkson, "No, seriously, does he really?"

Stark smiles. "He absolutely does."

Steve - because that's what he is in this moment, in no way symbolic or military, just a guy with a mouthy roommate - says dryly, "And who sets off the fire alarm twice a week?"

Stark spreads his hands wide. "It's in the name of science!"

"Oh really?" asks Clarkson in an arch voice, before moving to his next topic. "So, MI-13, how were they to work with. Do you really know Spitfire from during the war? I've always been one of her biggest admirers."

"Yeah, I knew her," Captain America says, with a slight tip of his head.

"Is it strange, her being a vampire?" Clarkson asks. "Do you ever worry that you might say the wrong thing and she might, I don't know, get a bit peckish?"

Dead silence.

"Sorry, sorry, shouldn't have said that! But if my esteemed colleagues had fangs, I'm pretty sure Hammond and May would be sorely tempted to snack in revenge two or three times a day!" Clarkson says. "So, cars. Now Tony, you've been on our program before, so let's start with Captain America. Or, I'm sorry, Steve. What is Captain America's car? What do you drive?"

"I don't have a car, never did," says Rogers.

Clarkson goggles. "I'm sorry, Captain America, symbol of the most car-havingest nation in the world doesn't do cars?"

"I'm from Brooklyn," says Captain America, as if that explains everything.

"O-oh," breathes Clarkson, "So the motorcycle, that's in real life too? If Captain America needs to pop round to the shops to pick up some milk, it's fire up the faithful steed? What motorcycle do you have?"

"A black Harley knucklehead Tony fitted out for me. Used to use a Harley WLA Liberator back, well, before."

"Buy American, of course," acknowledges Clarkson before turning to Stark. "And you? As I recall, the last time you were here, you had an Audi R8, a Tesla and some other things. Being a car-loving billionaire, I imagine there have been some changes in your lineup. What are you currently driving?"

"Right now, I'm driving a black Acura prototype that we're working with them on over at Stark Industries, which I'm generously street testing," Stark said.

Clarkson pulled an exaggerated face. "An Acura? Truly? Be honest, that's basically a Honda. Iron Man is driving a Honda."

"Not this one. Show the slide," he says, waving at a stagehand to begin. The image of a car, black and sleek and curvy pops up on the large monitor in the middle of the set."

"Oh, that's very nice, but..." says Clarkson.

"It's Stark under the hood," says Stark, "Can your Mercedes fly?"

"No, but we had a car on the show that could, you know," Clarkson says.

Stark smirks, "Not like this one, you didn't. Did it hit 11,000 feet using repulsor technology?"

"No, no, it did not. So, whatever happened to the Audi? The R8? You used to be inseparable."

"Nothing, it's back in Malibu," Stark shrugs negligently. "It's my West Coast ride. The S5, well, that was a little less lucky."

"What happened to it?" Clarkson asks.

"Steve," says Stark.

"You let a motorcyclist borrow your Audi? And they call you a genius!" tuts Clarkson. "Well, probably for the best. The S5 wasn't a very pretty car anyway, it's really sort of flash and awful. Footballers love it. And yet..."

Captain America crosses his arms and narrows his eyes. "Ask him about the Quinjets," he says to Clarkson.

"Look," says Stark, with a touch of self-mockery, "Just don't try to land a top of the line experimental airplane in Wakanda. Or an undisclosed location in Antarctica in winter. It never ends well."

"You've had bad luck with vehicles, haven't you?" Clarkson asks.

"You could say that," Stark allows.

"Have any of the rest of them met with interesting fates?" asks Clarkson. "The 67 Cobra? I know you used to have one..."

"I crashed into it the first time I took the armor out for a flight. Just completely smashed the front end."

"Did you by any chance say 'Hey look, watch this?' before doing that?" Clarkson wonders.

"Does it count if you say it to a video camera?" Stark asks.

"Yes, yes it does," says Clarkson. "And I believe something exciting happened to your Rolls?"

"Supervillain split it right in half, energy whips, you know? You just can't get a custom Rolls these days, it's not worth it," Stark complains. "You spend months or years on the waiting list and then bam, some angry Russian with a grudge and a stupid costume..."

"The same thing that happened to your racing car?" Clarkson asks.

"The exact same thing, same guy. Well, I mean, how many angry Russians with energy whips can there be? Don't answer that!" he says.

"So!" says Clarkson, clapping his hands and rubbing them together with glee, "Let's get to the real reason you're here, the highlight of your uneventful lives. The track."

Both heroes nod.

"Your reflexes are amazing, Captain," he says. "The Stig says that he's never had anyone learn the track quite so fast, or need to quite so much. That last was nearly perfect, and considering the first one... Would anyone like to see some clips from his first try?" Clarkson asks and the audience cheers.

 **ZAP**

The television screen blinked out, taking the superheroes and the British car program with it.

The Red Skull held the remote. "That will be quite enough of that," he said, tossing it aside.

"I was watching that," ground out MODOC, floating over to glare into the Red Skull's eyes. His tiny hands balled into fists. "What is the meaning of this disrespect, Schmidt?"

The Abomination and Amora scrambled off the couch and out of the way of the confrontation.

"Bah. Must we waste another moment on this childish excuse for entertainment? They will drive the outdated vehicle around the pitiful track, and we will be ten minutes older!" the Red Skull sneered.

"You insult me!" seethed the giant floating head. "But what can I expect from a fool who drives a Prius? Top Gear is too good for tasteless poseurs like you!"

"Do not taunt me, untermensch," growled the Red Skull, waving the remote at MODOC, "The Prius is the car of the future!"

"Do not taunt me, Skull, I am a Mental Organism Designed Only for Conquest!" MODOC said, snatching away the remote.

"Gentlemen, please," said Madame Hydra, as she walked into the lair, holding a bowl of popcorn."This is how you repay my hospitality? Be glad I have TIVO, Johann," she said, shoving the bowl of popcorn into his hands, "Or I would not allow you to stay to watch Primeval, and you would regret that, yes?"

He nodded, reluctantly.

"Good," said Madame Hydra, "Now we shall see if either of them beat Rowan Atkinson's lap time. I do not care for this 'Mister Bean'."

 

***

Transcript of the Top Gear James May review of the Acura/Stark Industries Super concept car for Top Gear Archives:

 

The propulsion system has an exciting history of exploding, it comes in any color you like as long as it's black, and you can't buy one because there are only three in the world.

Have I mentioned that it flies? That's why I'm the one testing it.

I am a licensed pilot, unlike some people. You could no more drive this with just a driver's license than you could register a sea plane as a row boat. Not the same thing, not the same thing at all.

This is the prototype Stark Supercar. Most concept cars are a bit of fiberglass and lies. All beautiful design and fanciful promises with another car's engine and no air conditioning.

But this concept car was made in Tony Stark's garage by the man himself and tuned with the same machines used to maintain the Iron Man armor with the kind of maniacal attention to detail you can only get from one of the world's great engineering geniuses and an unlimited budget.

You won't find unwired switches in the Stark Super. Even the GPS works - and he sounds rather like a thin, pale butler. The kind who makes disapproving noises about your choice of tie.

'Please turn left, sir.'

Case in point.

The badge says Acura because in theory, the car's a co-production with Acura. In practice, that means they designed all the dials, gauges and buttons that Stark couldn't be bothered to.

We asked for a drive last year when Mr. Stark was on our program, but at the time we were told that he hadn't finished perfecting it, by which they probably meant he wasn't done playing with his new toy and showing it off to his superhero friends.

The steering is definitely stiff, as if it were calibrated for the sort of muscles that forge iron, which it was.

Because the whole thing is powered by a miniature arc reactor - very space age, very clean, unless it reduces part of Los Angeles to a small, sparkly crater - there's no room for the usual boasting about cylinders and V-8, V-10, V-lots and lots. It doesn't have any. Which means when it comes to engine noise, things get a bit odd. Instead of the usual satisfying growl, there's a sort of centrifugey 'whung whung whung' noise, like a science fictional spaceship getting ready to take off. It's downright disturbing.

It does nought to sixty in a respectable but not astonishing 3.8 seconds, but what that doesn't tell you is that once the acceleration kicks in, it just keeps going. From zero to one hundred is 5.7 seconds, which is a contrast that would make absolutely no sense in a car with a normal engine, which this very much isn't.

The Stark Industries press release claims the thing can do 255 miles per hour, not as fast as the Veyron Super Sport, but faster than your run of the mill normal Veyron. We'll have to take them at their word on it, though, because this is a concept car with a limiter. It switches on if your name isn't Stark or Rhodes, which just goes to prove that nobody's perfect. I suppose it's all this hanging about with government agency types and costumed vigilantes who think no one can handle a good thrill but them.

It's also limited to seventy feet off the ground unless you have a passcode, which we haven't got, but that's 70 feet more than any other car out there, so I'm not complaining.

More than phones that can play cat videos or twenty-seven different flavors of coffee, flying over the studio in a street legal car makes me feel for the first time... ever, that I am really properly living in the future.

And it's a grand time to be alive.

**Author's Note:**

> The Avengers are Movieverse canon, but the larger Marvel universe is patched together from the comics and cartoons, in search of the version that amused me most. Various non-movie inspirations include MI:13, Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes, an episode of X-Men Evolution, Marvel Adventures Avengers, and many many 616 comics. Top Gear aspects inspired by, well, Top Gear. Certain catchphrases from these sources shamelessly reused and repurposed in the name of humor and transformative works.
> 
> Thanks to the fans who posted set pictures from The Avengers so I had an experimental Acura to explain. Extra thanks to the fine fic "Star in a Reasonably Priced Car", which inspired both the prompter and myself to want this in the first place. Readers may choose to see this as an unauthorized sequel or not.


End file.
